light carries on endlessly (even after death)
by DaughterOfPoseidon333
Summary: "Don't you dare say goodbye" Civil War speculation fic written before the movie premiered. No spoilers. Lots of angst and major character death. Very minor Steve/Nat. Pt.3 of "i don't know why (we break so hard)" series


**So a couple months ago before Civil War actually came out, I was having some serious feels over the movie and wrote this speculation fic to channel some of those feels, and I decided it was time to finally post it. This is based off some information/storylines I know of from the comics. I know it's not 100% accurate, but that's because I'm mostly using the movies, and just inserting the comic storyline in. And I haven't actually read a ton of the comics yet, so there's that too. Either way, there's lots of angst! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. No Civil War spoilers**

 **Title taken from Sleeping at Last's "Saturn". (been kinda avoiding using this song in any titles because I love it so much and I don't want to pin it down to just one story, but the lyrics were so fitting and I just, Sleeping at Last)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-:-**

Natasha gave Steve a comforting smile. She knew he was nervous, under a lot of stress. She understood. He'd only been fighting for what he thought was right and to have to go up in front of a crowd and explain himself…well, not that he couldn't do it, not that he _shouldn't_ , but, again, he'd only been doing what he thought was right, and it was hard to tell people that you were wrong. She watched his chest expand as he took a deep breath in, steadying himself.

"I'll be right here, if you need anything," she told him, reaching out to give his hand a quick squeeze.

"I know." He gave her a long look, struggling between saying something or not. Natasha gave him another smile to tell him that he didn't have to. Despite everything, he was still her friend, and that's all that mattered.

"We've got your back," she told him.

Steve's mouth cracked into a small smile. His gaze flicked over her shoulder to where Sam and Bucky were standing, just a few feet behind her, waiting alongside the stage for Steve to get called up to speak. Natasha glanced over at the crowd of people, settling into their chairs, as the event was about to begin. She caught a glimpse of Tony settling into the front row, Rhodey and Clint and the others all settling in around him, both teams mingling together to show that the fight really _was_ over. Things had been done or said over the past couple weeks that certainly wouldn't go away anytime soon, but they were all still friends, and they had to show the people that.

Natasha leaned in to give Steve a quick hug as his name was called. He pulled away, letting his fingers slip from hers as he made his way up onto the stage. Natasha shifted on her feet, smoothing down the front of her simple black dress as Steve neared the podium. Out of her periphery, she saw Sam and Bucky step closer to her side.

In front of the mic, Steve smiled. He gave a few waves, raised his chin high, and waited for the applauding and flashing of cameras to die down. Natasha kept her eyes on him as he introduced himself and started his speech. But as he stated to speak, something shifted in the air. Years of training as a spy had made her instincts sharp, and something inside of her screamed that they were all in danger. Prey.

The air stilled, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The chatter of the crowd faded, the white lights of cameras snapping pictures blurred into the background, blending in with the faces of everyone in the crowd. She barely noticed Bucky and Sam stiffening minutely at her side, as if they could feel it as well. Natasha scanned the area, too quickly, too frantically. Something was very, _very_ wrong. She could feel it. She turned her attention back to Steve, and took a step forward—to what? Warn him? About what? She didn't know, but the bitter taste in the back of her throat and the way her stomach clenched told her she had to do something.

Her next step was halted by the crack of a bullet.

Everything went into slow-motion. People ducked, cried out in fear. The superheroes in the crowd were immediately poised, ready for anything, helping civilians take cover while scanning their surroundings. Natasha had never heard anything so deafening in her life as the sound of that bullet. It was unmistakable, ringing through the air like it had come from a cannon, not the barrel of a gun. Her heart clenched in her chest as she saw the spray of blood. _Where did that come from? Where—? The podium? Who got shot? Who—?_

Then Steve's body crumpled and people screamed.

Natasha might have been one of them, but she was pretty sure she needed air in her lungs to do that.

Security was rushing around now, trying to control the crowd. The other Avengers were trying to help, but they were sluggish, rooted to the spot in shock like everyone else. Bucky was moving, though, taking a few steps towards the stage, but then he stopped. His eye caught something across the street that her brain was too muddled to process or see. Then suddenly he was off, charging down the path people created as they parted for him. _The shooter,_ she realized, _he's going after the shooter._ Oh, god. The shooter. _Steve._

Natasha stumbled forward, jerking her head to the side as she felt a warm hand close around her arm. Sam. His eyes were wide, but he gave her a nod and they headed for the stage, keeping low in case the shooter decided to fire again. Pretty much everyone has exited the stage, so Steve's body was in plain sight. Natasha's stomach churned, but she forced herself to step up next to Steve. She saw…she saw his chest rise!

" _Steve!_ " she cried, falling to her knees at his side.

She looked at his face—pale, eyes wide and unfocused, lips coated red. Then she saw the wound, the gaping hole in his chest— _his heart_ —where the bullet had entered. His white button down was bright, bright red, absolutely screaming with the color as it soaked into the fabric and clung to his skin.

She hesitated only a second before pressing both hands firmly over the wound. Steve gasped, a weak, tremulous sound she never imagined spilling from his mouth. Blood welled up in between her fingers as she pressed harder. She heard more than saw Sam take out his phone and call 911. His voice shook as he asked for an ambulance for Captain America.

"Hang on, Steve," Natasha whispered, looking back at him. His gaze was slow to find hers, but she sagged a little in relief when it did. "You just gotta hang on, okay? Hang on, medics are on the way."

His head oved a fraction of an inch in a nod. "Nat—"

"Shh," she said quickly, "Shh, don't talk, okay? You've got to save your strength."

He wisely listened to her, but kept his eyes locked on hers. But pretty soon she had to look away as the tears started slipping down her cheeks. She only looked up when Bucky came pounding up onto the stage.

"Anything?" Natasha gasped out, barely having the strength to ask even that one word. _Who would do this? The war was over, the fight was over! They were making peace! Who would do something like this?!_

Bucky shook his head. "No, I—" Then he saw Steve. Bucky crumpled so fast, on his feet one second, on his knees the next.

"Oh god," Bucky breathed. He tried to compose himself, but there was only so much he could do. He looked at her. "Medics?"

"On their way," Sam responded for her, voice hollow.

"Just keep breathing, Stevie," Bucky said, looking down at his friend, eyes specifically avoiding the wound that Natasha was still pressing her hands into in an effort to quell some of the bleeding. "Just keep breathing. Just like when you'd get an asthma attack. One breath after the other. That's it, Steve, keep going."

Steve looked in between her and Bucky, chest still rising and falling despite the blood that coated his body, the stage below him.

"Cap—" Tony, now just making it up onto the stage, followed by all the others, cut short.

The lines on Tony's face seemed to grow deeper in the second that he saw how bad of shape Steve was really in. He looked utterly and completely defeated, tired down to his bones. Natasha saw him touch his chest, right over his heart where the arc reactor had been.

Wanda, who adored Steve beyond measure, covered her mouth and turned away, tears immediately burning in her eyes. That only made Natasha cry more, the tears burning as they slid down her cheeks and onto the already blood-soaked fabric of Steve's shirt. Clint came over to her side, gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. It made it worse, them all being here, present. Witnesses. Witnesses to Steve's death. Because this was his death. He was bleeding out beneath her hands and there was nothing she could do to stop the flow of red. God, there was so much _red._ She hated it.

"Hang on, Steve," she whispered, only for him, trying to keep her voice from shattering into complete uselessness, "Hang on, all right. The medics will be here soon. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. You _have_ to be okay."

Steve looked at her for a moment before turning his head so he could look at Tony. "T—Tony….'M so—sorry."

Tony looked like Steve had punched him in the gut, and he stumbled against the podium, bracing a hand against it for support.

"Hey, no, don't go talking like that, Steve," Bucky pleaded, his eyes shining bright with tears. "Hang in there, pal. Sam, how long till med evac? _Sam_?"

But Sam was just as stuck as the rest of them, unable to move from their positions. The noise of the crowd, of sirens in the distance all sounded very far away. Natasha's chest heaved with a sob, and it took all of her strength to keep the rest of them locked in. Clint, taking the hint she hadn't realized she'd given, moved away, leading some of the others off the stage with him. Soon, all who was left was Bucky, Sam, and Tony.

Steve lifted a bloody hand weakly, touched Bucky's wrist. Bucky clenched his jaw, looked away for a moment, then turned back and gripped Steve's hand in his human one. "End of the line, right?" Bucky said. Steve nodded as best he could, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Bucky's hand with everything he had left.

She pressed her hands further into Steve's chest, but she knew it wouldn't do any good.

Steve looked back at her, attempting a wobbly smile. It was so pathetic Natasha nearly laughed. "Nat—Na…tasha—"

"Don't you dare say good-bye," she told him firmly.

It was hopeless. Pointless. Just like her hands trying to keep the blood in his body, trying to keep his heart beating. But she told him anyway because part of her wished that he was stubborn enough to listen to her.


End file.
